Tango
by True Miang
Summary: They'd grasp an offered hand to haul each other out of the mud or sling a lazy arm around the other's neck, and sometimes it just took a little longer for them to remember to let go. [SasuNaru, rated for light shounenai and a lot of swearing.]


**Tango**

Naruto had been thinking all morning, but he couldn't quite pinpoint when it all began. They'd enjoyed beating the shit out of each other practically since they'd met – it was a visceral pleasure for both of them; always had been. The close contact was simply a necessary component in the process, and the closer they got, the more damage they could inflict. It was pretty straightforward to Naruto, anyway: it was better with more contact. Except, he amended, for that time on top of the mountain at the Valley of the End. He'd been sitting on top of the guy for crying out loud – doesn't get much closer than that – but the hurts he'd carried away after that fight weren't the usual brand of aches and soreness, enjoyable above all for the reminder that he'd pushed himself to his physical limit. No, that fight just fucking _hurt_, in a way that still made his chest clench when he thought about it. Naruto grimaced. What kind of sadistic bastard would call a guy his closest friend while putting a hole through his shoulder?

_Sasuke_, his mind supplied helpfully. Naruto sighed and scrubbed the sweat out of his eyes with the back of his hand. It was always Sasuke. Figured that the jerk could interfere with his training without even being there. Knowing he wouldn't achieve the concentration necessary to practice his higher-level techniques with his mind on its current trajectory, Naruto flicked open his equipment pack and removed a handful of shuriken. He still hadn't caught up to Sasuke's throwing techniques, and the knowledge made Naruto grimace again as he settled into a throwing stance.

So if it wasn't when Sasuke left, then…Naruto closed his eyes as he began to throw, partially for the practice and partially because it was easier that way to replay the events since Sasuke's return. Naruto had forced himself to work through the initial awkwardness of friendship with a missing-nin who was no longer missing to draw Sasuke out of his shell all over again. Sakura had been right, Naruto mused with a half-smile; he _had_ been the only one who could save the Uchiha from his own darkness in the end. As the months ticked by, his patented Uzumaki get-well treatment – frequent trips to Ichiraku for ramen, horrible jokes cracked loudly at everyone else's expense, and a liberal dose of physical combat – wore the Uchiha down, until Sasuke had more or less returned to his pre-Orochimaru angst levels. And if sometimes his eyes took on a darker cast at the suspicious glare of a villager, or if the corners of his mouth had taken to quirking slightly downward when he activated the Sharingan, Naruto wasn't about to say a word.

The fighting had been key, though. And here Naruto's contemplations returned to touch on his earlier hypothesis: contact, he thought, made the difference. Sasuke just didn't let people touch him. Naruto, growing up as he had, always sought physical attention – he craved it. Sasuke, despite the similarities in his circumstances, shied away from it. But Sasuke let Naruto touch him, inasmuch as fists and claws and powerful kicking feet could count as touching. And Naruto, as he was finally realizing, had capitalized on that.

_Yep,_ he concluded happily, _the fighting was what did it._ As Sasuke warmed to life again in Konoha, his training bouts with Naruto increased in frequency. They began increasing in length, too; the stronger they grew, the easier it was for Sasuke and Naruto both to lose themselves in the intricacies of their movements within the elaborate dance on the edge of life and death. But above all, Naruto acknowledged, the quality of the contact within the fights had changed. What had begun as nothing more than a simple taijutsu routine had developed into an exchange specialized to the two of them: After fighting so often for so long, they knew each other's moves and each other's very bodies almost as well as their own. An outsider looking on would swear it had been choreographed, but Naruto knew their combats were limited only by their own creativity, the pattern of attacks and defense each time as unique as the crystalline formation of water droplets in a snowflake.

The more the two battled, the more easily they grew used to each other's touch. So it hadn't been much of a stretch – truly unremarkable, really – when the approaches meant to injure began bleeding into other, softer ones. The punch to the cheek had never softened to a caress, of course – Naruto snorted at the thought – but somewhere along the line, the briefest of contacts had begun to take on a separate undertone. Fists flew, but lingered a moment longer before being drawn back and readied again. The rough grab of a shirt front, to shove the other away or pull him in for another brutal attack, was prefaced by the lightest scratching of nails down its owner's chest, and so on. After the fights it was much the same; they'd grasp an offered hand to haul each other out of the mud or sling a lazy arm around the other's neck, and sometimes it just took a little longer for them to remember to let go.

And then came the day Sasuke pushed it one step further.

Naruto shook his head briefly, sighing. For all his claims to being Hokage material, Sasuke had certainly gotten the better of him that time. Naruto retrieved his shuriken from the surrounding oaks and leaned against one, sighing a second time and letting his eyes drop closed. This one he had to remember in detail.

It had started off a fight like any other, the give-and-take of chakra and powerful hits coming in a comfortable pace for them both. The minutes flew with each fist, leg, and weapon launched in each other's direction, and after half an hour both Sasuke and Naruto felt the beginnings of fatigue approaching. Neither felt particularly inclined to yield, though, and so the battle raged on. An hour later, both were panting hard as they circled each other wearily, still doggedly unwilling to cede the victory after so much time.

Sasuke moved first, diving toward Naruto's feet. Naruto jumped backward in an easy evasion attempt – too easy, he realized, as Sasuke abruptly twisted in midair and used his left leg to sweep Naruto's feet out from under him. Only Naruto's quick reflexes spared his head from an untimely conference with the ground; his hands shot out, propelling him into a handspring that launched him out of Sasuke's reach – and into the sturdy trunk of a very thick tree.

The Uchiha was on him in a flash, drawing himself up to his full height as if to press his advantage over the trapped Naruto. He drew his right fist back, intent on enjoying his clear victory to the fullest. The punch would have connected had his eyes not been trained directly on Naruto's mouth, which had curved up into a satisfied smirk. The expression was more at home on Sasuke himself than on Naruto, and it threw the Uchiha off-balance enough for his eyes to drop and take in the odd angle of Naruto's arm. In between connecting with the tree and readying himself for Sasuke's punch, Naruto had fished a kunai out of his equipment holster. It lay barely concealed in Naruto's left hand, ready to tear Sasuke's arm to ribbons as soon as he launched his fist forward.

Sasuke blinked, and the irritating smirk gracing Naruto's features widened. With his right hand, he lunged for Sasuke's shirt – this time to draw him in, and there were those maddening nails again – and with his left he maneuvered the kunai until it was an inch away from Sasuke's neck. He was practically beaming now as he leaned in toward Sasuke and murmured, "You of all people should know that I'm most dangerous when trapped. Give up, Sasuke?"

Sasuke snorted lightly and looked his rival straight in the eyes. "Unlikely," he remarked casually, as though they'd merely been commenting on the weather rather than the probability of Naruto severing his jugular within the hour. Sasuke swiftly brought his left hand up to rest atop Naruto's right, immobilizing it.

Naruto chuckled once, a sharp, staccato rush of air, and eyed his opponent carefully. "Don't even think of forcing that hand down, _Sas-u-ke_," he counseled his longtime rival. "I'm _telling_ you, give up now."

Sasuke allowed himself a small smile at that; Naruto hadn't figured it out after all. His hand tightened on Naruto's, and he returned the loudmouth's arrogant stare. "I'm not giving up, dumbass," he ground out. He leaned forward slightly, Naruto's kunai pressing his ivory skin taut. As the first drops of blood marked a jagged trail down Sasuke's neck, he finished in measured beats: "I won't lose to you." Naruto's eyes widened a fraction at the sight of Sasuke's blood, distracting him from the proximity of Sasuke's lips until they touched his, feather-light.

Naruto froze.

That was all the advantage Sasuke needed. Using his free right hand, he delivered a fierce right hook to the other ninja as he himself pulled away, knocking Naruto off balance to the left. With the kunai – still clutched in a vice grip by Naruto's right hand – no longer an immediate threat, Sasuke quickly wrestled Naruto to the ground, using his right hand to bind Naruto's wrists uselessly behind him and pinning Naruto's face to the dirt with his knee. Unable to let such a unique opportunity pass him by, Sasuke leaned down until his mouth was mere inches from Naruto's ear and caroled quietly, "Really, Naruto. I thought _you_ were supposed to be the number-one surprising ninja. Don't tell me you're getting soft in your old age?"

Naruto glared straight ahead and gritted his teeth against the intrusive dirt; he knew he'd lost, but he'd be damned if he'd give bastard-Sasuke the satisfaction of admitting it. The Uchiha 'hmmph'ed at his back and considered him a moment longer; Naruto fought the urge to squirm under the other's scrutiny. Apparently content with what he found, Sasuke declared, "It's over, then," and experimentally loosened his hold on Naruto's wrists. Satisfied that his loud teammate had understood the message and wouldn't fight back, Sasuke dropped Naruto's arms entirely and sprang backward as Naruto slowly picked himself up off the ground and spat at the offending earth, not even bothering to swipe at the dust that had taken a liking to his uniform.

Having thus achieved a personally acceptable state, Naruto turned to hurl some cursory epithets toward his erstwhile sparring partner only to find Sasuke's lithe form retreating into the trees. By the time his brain had fully processed this fact, Naruto's feet were already propelling him in Sasuke's direction, recovered chakra accumulating effortlessly on the soles of his feet as he leapt up a tree trunk in pursuit.

He caught up with Sasuke almost halfway back to Konoha's residential sector, dropping almost directly in front of the Uchiha from a higher branch and forcing Sasuke into a skid along the ground. "_Naruto,_" Sasuke growled, reaching back toward his equipment pack in case weapons became necessary again. "Fight's _ov –_ "

Sasuke's admonition was cut off as Naruto crushed his lips to Sasuke's, taking advantage of the latter's open mouth to sweep his tongue inside and taste his rival. Sasuke's hand snaked around to the back of Naruto's head, equipment pack forgotten. His fingers threaded through Naruto's hair, coming to rest lightly tucked underneath the soft fabric of Naruto's forehead protector. They remained locked together for a long moment, each trying to take control of the impromptu kiss, the battle for dominance between their tongues no less fierce than the taijutsu match they'd completed only minutes before.

But the moment passed, and the need to restore breathing faculties trumped both superiority and physical gratification. Naruto's hands tightened against Sasuke's shoulders, and the latter's fingertips wouldn't quite let go of the back of Naruto's head. The young men breathed shallowly, chests rising and falling just out of sync. Sasuke found his voice first, and barked out quickly, before he lost it again – "What the fuck was _that?_"

Naruto couldn't help smiling then, a bit of his usual cockiness fluttering to the surface despite the unusual situation. "_One_ of us had to do it right, asshole. _Your_ first try stunk."

A flush rose to Sasuke's cheeks, unbidden. Doubly embarrassed over this sudden chink in his usually impenetrable armor of self-control, Sasuke's mind whirled in preparation for a tirade. Leveling his customary glare toward Naruto, Sasuke launched forward: "I don't – " But Naruto silenced him with another deep kiss, less violent but no less ardent than before. By the time Sasuke managed to shove him off, they were both blushing, and Naruto's recently-honed sense of timing told him it was time to go before he had to face the most awkward walk home of his life. He turned to leave, then paused, feeling the energy rushing off his rival and dissipating inside the otherwise still forest. "Besides," he offered Sasuke, grinning cutely as he threw his parting shot over his shoulder, "_I'm_ the number-one noisy ninja at surprising people. _You_ won't ever beat me in that, and just to make sure, _I_ won't let you." And then, with a three-step running start, he was gone.

---

**Author's Note:** This was supposed to be a one-shot PWP when I started it in class three weeks ago. Instead, it's taken three weeks of statistics classes, 2,000 words, and one dead office computer to yield a handwritten story with a modicum of plot and no sex whatsoever. xx I fail at life. In the course of realizing it wasn't going to happen here, though, I did manage to figure out where the sex was _supposed_ to go, so I might be persuaded to cough up the sequel. If I do, I may or may not be able to post it here, depending on content. I'll keep you posted?


End file.
